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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016466">The Fascinating Chimera Project</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tertriary/pseuds/tertriary'>tertriary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mother 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Abuse, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Soldiers, Electrocution, Eye Trauma, Gen, Human Experimentation, Major Character Injury, Mother 3 Spoilers, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Second Person, Torture, Work In Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:33:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tertriary/pseuds/tertriary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a pov story about claus after he decided to fight the mecha drago.</p><p>expect lots of short chapters.<br/>triggers are tentative: some aren't relevant yet but will be, and i'm sure more will get added over time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. fight with mecha drago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>All the creatures here suck. We need to make ‘em cooler. So the theme will be:<br/>-Tougher!<br/>-Rougher!<br/>-Badder!<br/>We’ll mix this and that to create whole new things no one’s ever seen before! I dub it the Fascinating Chimera Project. Let’s reconstruct and modify stuff slowly and steadily.</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You can’t see anything anymore. Your vision has grown so blurry that you can barely make out the difference between the brown ground and the blue sky, getting shook and mixed around so much you can’t tell up from down, left from right. You want to scream out, cry for help, beg and promise that you’ll never sneak out ever again, you don’t want to die--but you can’t. The most you can do is let out a quiet whimper, resign yourself to your fate. The blood that’s been slowly trickling down your forehead reaches your eye and it burns and you close your eye tightly to try and stop it from hurting even more. It doesn’t help.</p><p>And when you accept it’s never going to end, you hear a sickening crunch and you lose all feeling in your right arm. You hit the ground with a dull thud, and you carefully open your eyes - you’re lying down face-up, it seems like, and there’s this giant green, grey and red blob standing over you. You know what it is. You’re not sure what it’s doing, but you can hear just fine and there’s squelching and crunching and snapping and it seems to move around a little while the disgusting sounds continue, and after a while it lets out an ear-piercing roar. It seems to be leaving you alone.</p><p>You’re not sure how long it’s been, but it feels like an eternity. You’re cold, you’ve closed your eyes again, you think of your warm bed and your dog and omelettes. You think of Fuel, of Alle, of Nichol and Richie, of Angie, even of Nana. You think of your brother and your father and your mother. The right side of your chest hurts so bad but at the same time it doesn’t hurt at all. You want to get up and move but you can’t get yourself to move even a finger, you’re so tired, just trying hurts so much. All you can do is lie there helplessly, so helplessly (just like <em>then</em>), hope it leaves, hope someone finds you. Even if dad beats you senseless and grounds you for the rest of your life, you’ll be okay with it. You just want to see Lucas again. You just… you just…</p><p>Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when you hear loud footsteps shaking the ground you’re lying down on. It’s louder and louder, coming closer and closer, you open your eyes and stare right at the monster and something small and wet and vaguely sticky hits your face. And again, and again and again and again, and you can see it coming closer and now it’s breathing right in your face, sniffing at you - your entire body, minus your right arm, tenses up and every hair on your body stands on end and you start hyperventilating so fast it feels like you’re choking, no matter how much you breathe you feel like you’re drowning, you just want it all to end already but it just won’t end--</p><p>Something big touches you, scaly yet smooth at the same time, something wet slobbers all over you and you can tell you’re being lifted into the air. You feel rows upon rows upon rows of teeth pressed up against your back. Your breathing slows down. You go limp. You’re freezing. You’re too tired to be scared. You’re too tired to cry. There’s several agonizingly loud cracks coming from your chest as your ribs give in under the force of the Drago’s jaws snapping shut. You’re too tired to scream. You’re too tired for it to hurt any more. It doesn’t take long before your vision goes black. It doesn’t take long before you can’t hear any more. Your chest tightens up uncomfortably. It’s like something invisible is trying to squeeze you into a box… you can feel yourself rolling out of its mouth, feel yourself starting to fall, but you don’t immediately hit the ground this time. You try to figure out what’s going on, but you can’t think any more. Everything is hazy and your thoughts get all mixed up with each other.</p><p>Then everything stops.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. activation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a moment, your world turns entirely white. It feels like you’re spasming, convulsing, thrashing madly around as saliva drips from your mouth and you start foaming and your eye rolls into the back of your head. It feels like you’re burning up from the inside out, like someone started a campfire inside of you, destroyed it then started swinging the blazing logs around. It feels like your mind is going haywire as it tries to reorganize itself, your mixed-up thoughts slowly coming back together into cohesive wholes, even through all the agonizing pain. It hurts so much, so so much, you want to cry, you are crying, you’re sobbing so loudly that you have to breathe through forced, choked gasps. You just want to sleep. Whatever’s going on, it won’t let you. You just want to see mom again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>You can hear something. You’re not sure what. It’s fuzzy and it doesn’t sound like anything you’ve heard before but you can <em>hear something.</em> <em>You can hear something.</em> Everything is still white but you can hear something, you can <em>feel something</em> - you hear a harsh but quiet buzzing noise, a slow but rhythmic beeping, a low-pitched whirring. Though it is dulled, you feel something cold against your back, even down your legs, your arms, your head, all over the backside of your body. There’s something pressing down on you, around your wrists, your ankles, your forehead. You try to focus on your breathing, but you can’t hear it. Everything’s just so loud.</p><p>It takes a while, but after a bit, the whiteness starts fading out. Your hearing sharpens, you can wriggle your fingers around, and as the whiteness disappears you realize you’ve been staring at a plain white ceiling all this time. You close your eye tightly at the harshness of the white ceiling and the intense light, but after a little bit, you slowly open it again, blinking over and over as you slowly get used to everything around you. You want to move your head to look around, but you can’t seem to budge it one inch. From what little you can see, there’s all sorts of weird things you’ve never seen before around you, making indescribable noises. You try to move your left arm; you can’t. You try to move your right arm; you can’t. You try to move your legs, you can’t, and panic starts to settle in. You have no idea where you are, and you can’t seem to move anything. You’re stuck. Your breathing picks up again, the stress catching up, your eye gets watery and you start crying loudly.</p><p>… actually, it doesn’t. You’re not crying. No matter how much you want to cry, you’re not crying. No matter how panicked you get, you finally notice you can’t hear yourself breathe. You can’t get yourself to breathe. You want to scream and beg for help but no matter how much you open your mouth, you can’t get yourself to say a single thing. Is this just all a dream? Is this what dying is like? You’re not sure how much longer you can keep this up. Your chest tightens and it starts hurting and you feel dizzy and you can’t breathe, you think you're going to pass out again but you don’t. You don’t pass out. You don’t feel dizzy and even though it hurts your chest isn’t tightening and even though you’re not breathing you’re still here. You’re not choking. You’re not breathing, but you’re not dying. You don’t understand. You don’t understand anything. Did someone save you? Shivers run down your spine and you can do nothing but helplessly lie there, wait for someone to find you. At least you seem to be okay, this time around. So maybe, maybe it’ll be okay to stay here a little while longer.</p><p>You immediately snap to attention when you hear a door opening. You can’t tell properly from where, but you know someone’s coming closer. Closer, and closer, and then you realize it isn’t just one person - it’s multiple, and you start trying to struggle, trying to move and get out but you’re firmly held down and no matter how hard you try and how much you strain yourself you can’t break free. You’re stuck and you know this but you still want to try, you still need to try, you have to get out of here, you need to get out and tell Lucas and dad that you’re safe, that you’re not dead, and then you can hear them laugh. Laughter that seems to fade into cheering, and then they move to lean over you and you can see what looks like men wearing pig-shaped masks in all sorts of different colours, you recognize them, you recognize those pig masks, you <em> know </em>you’ve seen them before, but before you get a chance to say anything, one of them speaks up.</p><p>“See, I told you! I told you it’d work!” It's a completely unfamiliar voice. Vaguely high-pitched. You’re not sure if it’s just like that naturally, or because they sound excited, for some reason. They wave a hand in front of your face and you instinctively follow its movement; they pull their hand away and start clapping. “It’s even cognizant! Ladies and gentlemen-” they’re interrupted by a cough, and you can hear a groan, “<em>Fellow Pigmasks, </em> wait, no, that sounds terrible- listen, does it really matter right now,” you’re trying to follow the conversation as well as you can, but you haven’t the slightest clue what they’re talking about, “what matters is that it’s working! It’s here, it’s functional, it’s probably listening to us talk right now! Right?” They move right in front of your face, you can see them clearly, staring at you from behind a green mask, and you can feel them resting their hand on what you quickly realize is your <em> bare </em> chest. When did they take your shirt off? <em> Why </em>is your shirt off?</p><p>While you’re still pondering the mystery of this sudden development, having stopped paying attention to your surroundings just a little, you’re suddenly slapped across the face. It stings. In no way were they trying to be gentle. You stare back up at them again, there’s a chance they might have said something, but you definitely missed it. Then they start laughing. “Actually, why am I even asking? It can’t talk. That’s what you said, right?”</p><p>Someone else speaks up. “Yes, sir. The subject is currently incapable of respiration, and so unable to vocally communicate.”</p><p>The pig in green laughs some more. “Right, right. Of course. Let's do it differently then, okay?" They look back over at you, and at this point you're more than aware they've been talking about <em>you </em>all this time. Are they saying you can't breathe? You really can't breathe? Normally, you'd never believe such a thing, but right now? You really can't breathe. They're not wrong. You can't... breathe. "Alright." You stare at them. "I'm going to untie you now. You better listen to what I say if you know what's good for you. It would be a waste if all our efforts were for nothing." They pull away, undo the restrains on your head, wrists and ankles and as soon as you get the chance you shoot right up, still sitting, and try to figure out what's going on. First off: you're not just missing your shirt, you're <em>naked.</em> This is seriously weird, and there's so many things you have to say about this, but you can't get a single noise to leave your mouth. You move your hands to your face, like you're trying to confirm you're actually really here.</p><p>More like <em>hand, </em>you quickly realize. You notice you're touching your face with only a single hand, and you quietly glance to your right arm... which isn't there any more. There's nothing left of it. You don't even have your shoulder any more, just a gnarly scar on the side of your chest that you would've thought looked super cool if you were in literally any other situation right now. You can feel yourself hesitating as you move your hand over to your left eye, which isn't there, either. You had expected you'd lose it ever since the Drago raked you across the face, but you still can't comprehend it actually happened to you. You had expected you'd be dead. You gently move your finger into your empty eye socket, but instead of feeling what you'd think would be skin, or flesh, or bone or something like that, you feel metal. There's... metal, inside of your eye socket. It's covering the entire internal lining. You carefully move your finger out of your eye. You look around the room, a white, completely clean room with lots of weird metal things completely foreign to you, surrounded by Pigmasks, most of them pink but there's a blue one alongside the green one as well. You slide your hand to your back, and you notice there's a bunch of things sticking out of your back - you look over your shoulder to try and get a good look.</p><p>A bunch of metal tubes are running out of your back, and as you follow them your with eyes, you realize they're connected to the metal boxes around you, the ones that have been making weird noises all this time. You look down at where you're sitting on, a cold metal table of some sorts with leather straps on it, which you deduce must've been the things stopping you from moving. After that moment of exploration, you stare back up at the green Pigmask, who has been watching you all this time, waiting on you. "Are you done yet?" They ask, sounding a little impatient. "You're probably confused as to where you are, aren't you?" You nod. "Confused as to what happened to you?" You nod again. They turn around, face one of the pink Pigmasks, and bark out a "Go fetch Dr. Andonuts! Tell him <em>the </em>Chimera has been activated and that he has to come over!" and then turn to you again. "Well, what can I say. You don't need to know, for one. Even if I told you, it wouldn't matter for long. Figure it out yourself."</p><p>That didn't help at all. They cross their arms. "Now, where were we? Ah, right, of course. I'll say it again: you're going to listen to everything we say. You will do what we tell you to do, and if you dare to fight it, we'll make sure you regret it. Got it?" No, you've firmly changed your mind. It's not safe to stay here at all. You don't know what they're planning, but whatever it is, it's not good. You look off to the side, then decide you need to get the hell out of here as you jump off the table and make a mad dash for the door. The Pigmasks around you start causing a ruckus upon your escape, but the green one tells them to shush and stay. They're just watching you run away.</p><p>The tubes in your back get violently ripped out during your escape attempt, and you can feel yourself rapidly weaken and go limp in response. You fall to the ground face-down, you can't move a single muscle in your body, and the green Pigmask slowly walks up to you and presses their boot down on your back - it hurts. It <em>hurts</em> and you just want to cry and scream for someone to help, but you can't. You can't do anything. They start talking.</p><p>"You shouldn't have tried that, you idiot. Did you really think we'd let you escape?" They lift their boot off your back and walk away. "If it's going to be rebellious like this, we'll have to find a way to whip it into line." Your eyes are heavy. You close them.</p><p>The voice starts getting quieter. "Maybe we could try whatever mr. Fassad did with that monkey. I'm sure it won't be any different with this thing."</p><p>And then you pass out, for the second time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. andonuts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you wake back up, you’re lying down on the metal table again. The metal tubes have been reattached to your back: though the pain has completely subsided, you’re no further than when you first arrived, and it’s so frustrating. So frustrating that they watched you run, that they did absolutely nothing because they knew you wouldn’t get anywhere, anyway. You move your hand up to rub your eye – it looks like they didn’t strap you back to the table. Probably because it seems you can’t go anywhere without these tubes attached to your back, and they’re pretty limited in how far they stretch.</p><p>Now that you’ve had a moment to wake up, you notice there’s something pressing against your neck, so tightly it would’ve probably choked you if you were still <em>normal. </em>You claw at it a bit to try and take it off, much to no avail. You claw at it some more to try and loosen it a little at least, but that’s not working, either. It’s cold and a little heavy and though you can’t really look at it, you can tell it’s not entirely smooth and that it’s making a quiet but constant buzzing noise that’s grating to your ears. You tug at it and try to break it by pulling harshly at it but you can’t budge it even an inch and just when you’re starting to get really ticked off, a small voice calls out to you from across the room. It’s an old man, already balding, with two tufts of white hair on the sides of his head, a little mustache, wearing a white coat, and a pair of glasses, too. He was sitting in a chair, though he’s gotten up by now.</p><p>“Oh, you’re awake?”</p><p>Immediately your hand balls into a fist and you get ready to defend yourself from whatever weirdo this place is going to throw at you now. You’re shaking, though. You’re trying to make yourself look as imposing as possible, but it’s almost impossible when you feel this small and vulnerable. You know you can’t do anything against whatever they’re going to do to you, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise.</p><p>“Wait, wait!” He calls out. “Please, calm down. I don’t mean you any harm. I promise.” He throws his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender. It takes you a moment, but you eventually relax just a little bit. You’re still tense, you don’t trust him, there’s no knowing what he might do, but you shift your focus away from him and back to trying to take whatever’s around your neck off. He interrupts you with a “Don’t bother,” and you stop in your tracks to turn back to him once again. He’s closer now, not right next to you but a lot closer than you’re comfortable with right now, and he’s got a large white cloth in his hand, which he promptly offers to you. “Here, put this on. It’s not much, but you should be able to turn it into a makeshift skirt.”</p><p>That’s a good idea, actually. You roughly rip it out of his hands (startling him for a second) before carefully getting off the table and wrapping it around your crotch. He wasn’t kidding, it really isn’t much, but at the very least it’s <em>something.</em> “You must be cold,” he says, and you nod. Now that he brings it up, you are cold. You’re freezing, but somehow, you’re not shivering. It’s strange. You stare at him, but he can’t seem to bring himself to stare back, and the atmosphere remains tense, dangerous and uncomfortable for what feels like several minutes before the old man finally speaks up again.</p><p>“My name is Dr. Andonuts,” he introduces himself with. It’s awkward. Everything about this situation is awkward, and it makes you feel uneasy. “They’ve assigned me to look after you.” Like a personal caretaker? You jump back up on the table and tilt your head at him. “You want to know why you’re here, don’t you?” You nod. You’d be surprised he can tell, considering you haven’t said a word, but you suppose it is rather obvious. He sighs, then finally looks at you. “One of <em>them</em>,” you can feel the venom in his words as he speaks, “they found you, at the Drago Plateau. They decided to tell their superiors, who told them to bring your corpse here. Then they…” he hesitates, sighs, shakes his head, seems to consider something, then continues talking, “well, what matters is that we brought you back to life. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.”</p><p>So you really did die. You died and they brought you back to life. This shouldn’t be possible. When people die, they’re dead forever. They don’t just come back to life. But you don’t want to fight it. You just close your eye in a quiet resignation. It’s more effort than it’s worth to fight it. You reopen your eye, then point at the thing around your neck. Andonuts shakes his head. “Oh, that thing. It’s a shock collar, I’m afraid.” He sounds dismayed. You tilt your head. “Do you not know what it is?” You nod. He sighs. You grab onto the collar as he pulls out a small rectangular device and shows it off. “It’s a collar that will send an electrical shock through your body if I press a button on this remote. A way of punishing you if you don’t comply.”</p><p>Your heart sinks into your chest. A punishment. This thing can hurt you if you don’t do what you’re told. You stare down at the floor, and your hand drops from the collar back onto the table. There’s no way. If you don’t listen, they’ll hurt you until you do listen. “I know. I’m sorry. I really am.” You look back up at him. “I wish I could take it off, but I’m not allowed to. But I promise I won’t use it on you.” At least he seems nice.</p><p>“Do you know how to write, young man?” You’re not sure about the sudden topic shift, but you nod. He walks away, grabs a notebook and a pen, and hands it to you. “Now we can properly talk. Can you tell me your name?” You open the notebook, take hold of the pen, and start trying to write. Emphasis on trying: you lost your dominant hand, and trying to write with your left makes everything horribly messy and barely legible and it only causes your stress to come back, but after a few moments of pushing through, you manage to write something down that you think he can read.</p><p>
  <em>Claus.</em>
</p><p>“Your name is Claus?” You nod. “I’ll make sure to remember you.” The way he says that… you feel your stomach starting to churn as panic sets in once again. You flip the page on the notebook.</p><p>
  <em>Am I going to die?</em>
</p><p>He shakes his head. “You’re not going to die.”</p><p>
  <em>When can I go home?</em>
</p><p>He doesn’t immediately answer this time. He closes his eyes and lets out a pained sigh, then looks back at you with pity. “You can’t. You can’t go home, Claus.”</p><p>Your eyes widen. You can’t go home. You had a sneaking suspicion that would be the case, but to directly hear it, it feels terrible. You want to go home. You just want to go home already. You don’t want to be here any longer, but there’s no way out. If you try, they’ll just hurt you. It’s getting really hard to keep your writing steady, but you need to know.</p><p>
  <em>What will they do to me?</em>
</p><p>“I don’t know. I’d tell you if I knew, but they’re keeping that a secret even from me.” He smiles at you, but you can tell it’s forced. “Is it okay if I ask you some other things?” You nod.</p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p>You put down your pen as you hold up your fingers. You pick the pen back up when you remember you’re a few fingers short now. It’s going to be forever before you can get used to this.</p><p>
  <em>Ten.</em>
</p><p>“Ten? Oh, God… you’re still so young…” He sighs. “I’m really sorry for doing this to you. You don’t deserve any of it. But they leave me no choice.” You tilt your head.</p><p>
  <em>What do you mean?</em>
</p><p>“You’ve seen them, haven’t you? Men wearing pig head masks.” You nod, again. “They forced me to do these terrible things. I hope you can forgive me. For what I already did. For the things they're going to make me do to you.”</p><p>You start scribbling another question when a strange sound starts playing from Andonuts’ direction. He pulls a thing out of his pocket, which you guess is what's making the noise, and he starts talking into it. “Yes, hello. This is Dr. Andonuts.” He groans. “I’ll come over. Don’t do anything without me.” He puts the thing back into his pocket, and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Claus. I have to go.”</p><p>
  <em>It’s okay.</em>
</p><p>“I’ll try to be back later, but I can’t promise anything.” He sighs. “I know you won’t like this, but I’ll need to strap you back down. If anyone walks in on you being free from your restraints, you'll get into trouble. So, please cooperate.” You close your eyes. You’ll just have to play along. Nothing good will come out of resisting. You open your eyes again and nod, lying down on the table. He walks up to you, straps you back in, tightly enough that you can’t move any more, and he steps back.</p><p>“Thank you, Claus. I wish I didn’t have to do this. You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”</p><p>With that, he disappears, leaving you alone once again with nothing but your thoughts and the hellish noises made by everything around you. You close your eyes. Maybe you can get some sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. sleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’ve been lying down with your eyes closed for what feels like hours. It’s never been this hard to fall asleep. Even during the days where your mind was wrought with stray thoughts and anxieties (you think back to the days where you lied about breaking dad’s things, hoping that he wouldn’t find out (he always did)), you still managed to fall asleep in what didn’t feel like more than two hours, but it’s definitely been much, much longer than that now. You’re not entirely sure why.</p><p>What you are sure about, however, is that lying in the same position for hours, on top of a cold metal table, not being able to budge even a single centimetre is wreaking havoc upon your comfort. It’s not like you’ve been casually lying down, either. You had to stretch yourself out to fit in the restraints, it’s starting to hurt now but there’s nothing you can do about it. You’ve been listening to what’s around you to try and distract yourself, but it’s constantly the same: whirring and beeping and shrill drawn-out noises, following a consistent pattern you’ve memorized by now. Bee-beep, pause. Bee-beep, pause. Bee-beep, pause. It almost reminds you of someone’s heartbeat. Is it supposed to be yours? If it is, you certainly haven’t felt it. You’re used to your heart almost literally pounding out of your chest whenever you shoot into a panic, but you haven’t felt anything like that since you tried to fight the Drago, probably. Certainly not here.</p><p>No matter how much you try to listen to sounds from the outside, it’s completely silent most of the time. Is there nobody around, or does this room block sounds that well? There is the occasional cry of what seems like animals – you can hear them scream out for help. The cries of dogs and cats, <em>help me, I don’t want to die,</em> of pigs and chickens and even cows, <em>please stop, what’s happening,</em> and some noises that you’ve never heard before. It pains you to hear. You’ve always cared about animals: mom told you how even as a toddler you wanted to play with the sheep, how she felt like you’ve always had a sixth sense for them, like you could understand them. You <em>can </em>understand them. Lucas, too. But only you two. You haven’t met anyone else that could do the same.</p><p>It just makes their cries all the more agonizing. It gives you an idea of what they’re going through, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll end up going through the same. After all this time, Andonuts still isn’t back. You want him to come back and tell you about what’s going to happen to you. He’s been far too vague in what he’s told you so far, and the things he’s said have only made everything worse. He’ll remember you. If he was trying to be comforting, that only accomplished the exact opposite—</p><p>You hear the door open. Someone walks in. An old man yells “Give me a moment to prepare,” and you can feel yourself beam in delight. It is him! It’s Andonuts! He’s back! He’s messing with something beyond what you can see, but it’s okay. You have so many things you need to ask him. You’d like to ask him about <em>him,</em> too. It’s not fair he gets to ask you about yourself but you don’t get a chance to ask him about himself back. He walks up to you, leans over you, stares at your face as he adjusts his glasses. You give him a wide grin, but your smile falters when he doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t seem happy to see you at all, actually. He doesn’t let you out of your restraints, either. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you hate how you can’t get yourself to say a single word, make a single sound, other than unceremoniously opening your mouth and hoping he reacts, which he doesn’t. He walks off to do <em>something, </em>and the rhythmic beeping gets interrupted by click-clack sounds, and he eventually speaks up again.</p><p>“The lot of you can come in, now."</p><p>And on cue, you can hear more footsteps. It's not that many of them, maybe two or three other people, but it's more than one and that's already too much for you. You try to get a look at who just walked in, but you can't get even a single glance at them, so after a moment of wasted time you instead try to catch onto a conversation, instead. They're quiet for a surprisingly long time as the click-clacking continues. It gives you this sickening feeling in your stomach. You ball your hand tightly into a fist. What's going on? Why are they here? What are they going to do?</p><p>Eventually, one of them speaks up. It doesn't sound like Andonuts, at least. It's deep. A lot deeper than him.</p><p>"I hope this won't take any longer, Dr. Andonuts. We need to get<em>... it, </em>off this machine already."</p><p>"I know. But I have to take the necessary precautions."</p><p>"Don't have it take too long. If push comes to shove, we will start the surgery right now, whether you are prepared or not." Surgery? Are they talking about you? They have to be talking about you. Why would they do surgery on you?</p><p>"I know." He seems a little annoyed the second time he says it. Nobody seems to say anything in response. The click-clack noises abruptly stop, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next, but nothing seems to happen. "Give it a minute or two," Andonuts says.</p><p>"Fine, but no longer." You can hear someone rhythmically tapping against something. It's mesmerizing... lying here, listening to the tapping, it makes you realize you feel kind of drowsy, actually. Why now? Something's finally starting to happen, and now of all times you're suddenly drowsy? Not those hours (were they hours?) where you were actively trying to fall asleep? You feel calm for the first time since coming here, though. It's a nice feeling. Relaxing, soothing, calming, it's like a warm blanket and a good hug. You've got nothing to worry about.</p><p>Maybe a little too calm. All the tenseness you held in your body disappears as you start to relax, even though you don't want to. This is no time to relax. There are people here you've never seen before, and you need to focus and be aware so you can stop them if they try anything, but you're so <em>tired.</em> You're so, so tired.</p><p> </p><p>Surely it can't hurt if you close your eyes?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>For just a moment.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. electric</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You <em>knew </em>you’d fall asleep. Stupid, stupid, stupid! By the time you’ve woken up, the room’s entirely quiet, outside of a soft whirring noise. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. What convinced you closing your eyes was in any way a good idea? How much did you miss?</p><p>You can feel a very light jolt of something coursing through your body. It’s so fast you can’t really tell where it started, but it spreads through your arm and legs and into your fingers and toes before fading out. It’s tingly and it makes you feel a little warm. Strange, but nothing for you to worry about. It feels nice, after all. Afterwards, you get yourself to shoot upwards, into an upright sitting position. Your restraints aren’t on. Why? There’s nobody around. You examine yourself: you’re still wearing the white cloth fashioned into a makeshift skirt around your crotch, your legs and arm seem fine, and then you notice patched-up incisions on your chest and belly that <em>definitely</em> weren’t there before and okay, maybe, just maybe you should freak out a little. What the heck, where did those come from?</p><p>A wave of anxiety washes over you at the oddness of it all. It makes your head kind of hurt and your mind is screaming at you to <em>get out</em> once again, but your hand reaches up to your neck and to nobody’s surprise the collar is still there and all your thoughts of escape wane in that very moment. There’s no point. You don’t know how this thing works, but you’re inclined to believe Andonuts and you don’t <em>want </em>to find out what it does. And, either way, even if you <em>did </em>get out, you have no idea where you are. The room you’re in doesn’t have a single window, as far as you can tell, and for all you know you’re all the way on the other side of the islands and you’ll probably just die <em>again</em> in the wilds if you try and make your escape. There’s little you can do other than stay and hope that whatever’s going to happen to you, it won’t be too bad. Hopefully.</p><p>Speaking of odd, with how tense and anxious and uncomfortable you are, you expected your stomach to be in knots and give you a funny feeling like always, but it seems perfectly content. Well, you’ll take it. You feel less bad this way. You hop off the table, and when you do so you notice something <em>else.</em></p><p>You’re not hooked up to that machine any more.</p><p>There’s a second of panic as you expect to go down to the ground again but you stay standing this time. You don’t feel weak, or all that painful (you have a consistent ache in your chest ever since waking up the first time and it’s definitely still here, but you brush it off, don’t think much of it) and the panic fades out for a huge wave of relief instead. You use this amazing opportunity to run around in circles in the room, which is a lot bigger than you initially gave it credit for. It feels so great to finally be able to run around like <em>normal!</em> Another tingly jolt rushes through your body, and you feel energized and like you’re in tip-top shape. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt this excited. It gives you a chance to properly examine the room, though, and you take it.</p><p>As suspected, there are no windows. It’s a large, white room, far too clean for your liking. There’s the large metal table that you were lying on top of near the middle of the room, off to the side a little, and up against the wall, on the side of the table where your head was, are large metal boxes with several holes. Each of the boxes has what looks like a rectangular black piece of glass affixed on it. It’s not hard to deduce that those holes are probably where those things in your back were connected to… does that mean you have holes in your back, too?</p><p>You shudder. You don’t want to think about that.</p><p>You move up close to the boxes and press your ear against them. They’re entirely silent, there’s not a single noise coming from them. It’s kind of creepy. There’s more to them, certainly, but you’re not sure how to describe it…? Pipes connected to the ceiling, and levers and buttons and vents and panels and all sorts of extra things but it doesn’t really matter because none of them actually do anything. No matter how many buttons you push and levers you flip, nothing happens. Maybe it’s broken.</p><p>On the other side of the room, there’s a large desk with a chair. On the desk is a smaller white metal box with a really large black glass thing, and in front of the desk is another rectangular thing full of buttons with letters written on them, and some sort of egg, but then cut in half. No, not an egg. It doesn’t look like an egg. It’s like an odd bump, and you can move it around, and there’s a wheel you can rotate in the middle of it. It looks like it has two clicky buttons on it. Beside the desk are several shelves full of books, and also some miscellaneous stuff, but mostly books, but they’re blocked off by glass doors with a lock on them and it seems they are, indeed, locked, considering how they don’t budge when you try to open them. Either that, or they’re broken too, but you find that a little less likely.</p><p>You look over at the door, or at least what you think is a door. It doesn’t really look like one. There’s an indentation in the wall like a door frame, but there’s not actually a door. It just looks like the wall was cut in half. You walk over to try to figure out how to open it, but no matter how much you mess with it, prod and poke it and push on it or try to pry your fingers in the slit between the two halves of the wall and pull them apart, it doesn’t move at all. It’s starting to get really annoying, and you punch the wall-door with your hand.</p><p>That accomplishes nothing other than making your hand hurt.</p><p>You finally get a semblance of freedom, and it all turns out to be fake anyway. Did they lock you in? You’re almost certain they locked you in. That has to be the only reason why they removed your restraints and let you wander freely – you’re not actually free. You pace around the room for a little while longer before walking up to a wall and sliding down it, sitting on the ground. There’s nothing you can do.</p><p>Right on cue, the two halves of the wall slide open (doors can do that?), and you scamper off the ground back to standing upright, but before you can run out of the room someone else steps in. It’s a Pigmask, this one clad in green. You can tell they’re holding onto something, but you’re not sure what exactly.</p><p>“Come with me,” they say. You just stare at them, unmoving, unwilling to cooperate and you can tell they notice with how they sigh and shake their head. “I will only warn you once. Come with me, or <em>else</em>.” You know they're just trying to intimidate you. You shake your head and glare at them, but before you can do anything else, the Pigmask raises their other hand to the one that’s holding onto something, you can hear a quiet click in the silence of the room, a loud beep from just below your head.</p><p>Your neck turns scorching hot as agonizing pain flares through your body. Everything is vibrating, your vision turns a bright white, your ears are loudly buzzing, your fingers curl up and you suddenly drop to the ground as your legs give out underneath you. You try to reach out for the collar on your neck, but your arm won’t move. Nothing does what you want it to do. It feels like you’re excessively straining every muscle in your body and you can’t stop no matter what you do. The intense heat spreads all throughout, it feels like you’re being burnt alive from the inside-out, like thousands of knives are stabbing you over and over and over, resembling the comforting tingly jolt you felt before but amped up so far you can’t handle the pain, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts so much and it just won’t stop and you want to scream out and cry but you can do neither of those things, you feel like you’re going to die, you <em>are </em>going to die if this keeps up any longer—</p><p>Just as quickly as it started, the agony disappears, starting with your neck finally relaxing, then your chest and head, your arm, your legs, the widespread searing heat turning into nothing more than a light sizzle as the whiteness starts slowly fading out and your vision returns to you. Very slowly, you push yourself off the ground, every muscle in your body sore as all hell, the buzzing in your ears still there, drowning out the loud laughter you can barely hear coming from the Pigmask. You can smell smoke, burnt meat. When you manage to get yourself onto your knees, your hand raises to your neck, and as soon as you touch your collar to shift it around your face contorts in pain and you quickly pull your hand back. Your neck is throbbing, aching even more than the rest of your body, and it still feels so hot. Your collar… was that what Andonuts was referring to? You’ve never felt what an electrical shock was like before, and now? If they can do this without warning to you, whenever they want? You wish it had just killed you.</p><p>You slowly get up, back onto your feet. You’re still shaky. You straighten yourself out, and the laughter stops as well. The atmosphere is tense. You’re tense. It hurts to move, but you don’t wait for them to say anything as you shuffle over.</p><p>“Oh, good,” you can hear somewhat clearly, “at least it can learn. Maybe this thing might be worth something after all.” They snort. “Now, this way, and don’t you dare think about running off.”</p><p>You close your eyes for a moment. What did you get yourself into? You just want to go home already. You don’t want to stay here any longer. You want to cry. But you’ll just have to deal with it. They don’t care about you. There’s no point in fighting it. There’s nothing you can do, other than listen.</p><p>You carefully walk past the Pigmask, still so sore you can barely get yourself to move at a normal pace. But, clearly, it isn’t good enough, as you feel a boot on your back and you get roughly kicked out of the room, onto the floor. They’re laughing. They enjoy seeing you in pain. Your hand balls into a fist and you just want to lay there for a few seconds, but you can’t even have that. “Stop being such a wimp!” You bite onto your lip as they start screaming at you when you don’t get up immediately. “It’s just a damn shock collar! Get up, get moving! If you don’t haul your ass out of there right now, I’ll give you a reason to! We didn’t spend so much on you just for you to act like a fucking child!”</p><p>After getting back up, you start moving again. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You don’t even know what’s going on. When you’ve finally made sufficient distance from the door, the Pigmask huffs and starts walking as well, easily catching up to you before tightly grabbing your arm as they start dragging you along, irritated at how sluggishly you’re moving.</p><p>You hear the door close behind you, all on its own.</p>
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